Come Back to Me
by Inherently Flawed
Summary: All I can do is sit here, and ramble at you until you wake up, if only to tell me to shut up. I’ll annoy you into consciousness. Rating for language


Author: Inherently Flawed

Rating: R, for language

Disclaimer: Not mine

This isn't right. I didn't have enough time. There's never enough time for anything, it seems. We didn't have enough time to talk, to listen, to hug, to laugh, to love, to live. You have to live. You saved my life, you know. Did you know? So many times. You only know half of them, probably. I would have lost it, and lost it, and lost it again, if now for you always there. Now you're here. You shouldn't be here. What am I going to do without you?

Please, please wake up. Wake up for me. Or for you, at least. I don't care, just open your eyes. Squeeze my hand. Talk to me. If you just come back to me, I'll be nicer. I promise. We'll talk more, I'll spend more time with you instead of out. I'll spend all my time with you. I love you too, you know. I don't know if I tell you that. I think it a lot. Do I tell you? I should tell you more. I'll tell you more, if you wake up.

Okay, if bargaining with you won't work, maybe I need to start bargaining with God. Will that work? I mean, according to my parents, God doesn't love us because we love each other. I'll try anyway, though. Anything, if you'll just come back to me…

Alright, God, are you listening? If you let me have him back, I'll be a better person. I can't promise that I'll go to church, or anything, but I'll be a better person. Love my fellow man, and all. Wait, I already do that. I thought that's why you supposedly don't like me, because I love my fellow man. Maybe this was a bad idea.

So that didn't work. I'll just have to keep talking to you. But I'm out of words. Will it do me any good to just keep begging you to wake up? Will it hurt to try? Please come back to me. I love you. Come back. I love you. Come back…

The doctors said that you can probably still hear me, even though you're not awake. Can you feel, too? That was me kissing your cheek. That was me touching what's left of your hair, and your face. You need to shave. That was a teardrop. And another. And another. I'm sorry, I'm getting you all wet. I didn't mean to. I'm so scared though. I always go to you when I'm scared, but I can't do that now. All I can do is sit here, and ramble at you until you wake up, if only to tell me to shut up. I'll take that.

Maybe I'll try that. I'll annoy you into consciousness. This is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on my friends, some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that never ends… it's hard to sing and cry at the same time.

I think it's probably good that it's three in the morning right now, otherwise someone would be likely to walk in and see me talking to you like this and quite likely check me into the psych ward, which I think is only a few floors up. On the other hand, I'm only allowed to be here at three in the morning because your condition is so serious. That's less comforting. Actually, that's downright terrifying. It's strange that I'd be happier out in the waiting room, away from you, right now. Not that I don't want to be here with you. It would just mean that you're going to get better if I were out there instead of here. Never mind. I'm not making any sense.

I wonder if you just need a good shaking, or a slap, like in the movies. But I could never bring myself to hit you. So on to Plan B, then. Hey! You in there! Wake the fuck up, already! I'm declaring myself dictator of this relationship, and I do not give you permission to leave me!

Okay, that, once again, didn't work. All I've done now is wake up the people next door, probably. Or get the nurses attention, and now they might make me leave. Damn. Good job, dumbass. Oh great, now I'm not only talking to an unconscious person, I'm talking to myself, too.

Well, I supposed that if begging, asking, annoying, and yelling at you didn't wake you up, promising sexual favors probably won't either, huh?

"What did you just say?"

"Oh my God. You – you are unbelievable. I've been sitting here for hours telling you I love you, begging you to wake up, I tried to fucking _pray_ for you, of all things, and the thought of sex wakes you up."

"I'm kind of wishing it hadn't. I feel like I got hit by a fucking bus."

"Just a car, actually, but close enough."

"Oh, well, gee, that's better then. Just a fucking car. Whoa. Hey, it's okay. I'm awake, I'm fine… as far as I can tell, anyway. It's okay. Ew, your hair's greasy. How long have I been in here?"

"Two days."

"Oh my God. And you've been sitting here the whole fucking time, haven't you?"

"…Yeah…"

"Roger! Did it occur to you that you need to eat and sleep and take your AZT?"

"I am so glad you're back, Mark."


End file.
